The Debt
by Xenitha
Summary: Sequel to Wall of Death. Batman must repay the debt to Ra's al Ghul for the medicine that saved Dick's life. He leaves Gotham in the hands of Young Justice, but doesn't tell Dick where he's going or why. Dick is not happy about it.
1. The Miracle

THE DEBT

PROLOGUE

LOCATION UNKNOWN

MIDDLE EAST

FOUR MONTHS AGO

A figure shrouded in black met another in a sandy wasteland. The second figure, holding a machine gun and wearing body armor, nodded and gestured to the first, leading him to a cave in the cliff face. Once inside, the first figure pulled back his hood and looked around, showing Batman in his accustomed dress.

Ra's al Ghul strode forward, a smile on his face. "Welcome, Detective. I am gratified that you would approach me for assistance. Usually we work at cross purposes. Come, have some tea. You must be tired from your long journey." Ra's led him to a carpeted area where a small round table held a steaming brass teapot and cups. At Ra's gesture, Batman sat down and accepted a cup of tea, although careful not to drink any. Ra's noticed and smiled knowingly. "Now. How can I help you? Something to do with the Young Detective's new abilities?"

Batman quirked an eyebrow. "You know about that, then?"

"I keep myself informed about you and your 'family'." Ra's eyes glittered and he put the cup down. "Time grows short?"

"He needs a treatment," Batman admitted, putting down his own cup. "Current science doesn't have much to offer him. It must be soon, he's already showing small signs of deterioration."

"I see," Ra's gave Batman a speculative look. "There will be a price."

"I require assurances that the cure will be effective," Batman countered. "And I won't kill for you."

Ra's nodded. "I am well aware of your ethical constraints. Very well, I believe that we can do business. My organization controls a system of Lazarus pits, as you know."

"Lazarus water kills the living," Batman replied.

"It kills when undiluted. Its effect can be...modified... by certain chemical and herbal additives. That will make it an effective cure for the Young Detective's malady. I can have a preparation ready for you within a few hours." Ra's watched Batman's expression closely, like a predatory animal sizing up its next meal.

"And the price?" Batman's eagerness to deal was restrained, but Al Ghul had known the man for years and he knew that he held his old nemesis in his hand.

"A favor. At some time in the future, your assistance on one of my projects at a place and time of my choice. I will not ask you to kill, but I will require your full attention to my interests." Ra's green eyes seemed to gleam with avarice.

"And if I renege on the deal?" Batman asked, almost casually.

"The Young Detective is dying at present. That condition can be restored to him and assuredly will be if you were so dishonorable as to break our agreement." Ra's met Batman's gaze. "But I know you for an honorable man and am confident that you will keep our bargain. Is it agreed?"

Batman nodded and held out his right hand and Ra's shook it. "Very well," Ra's said. "I will return with the preparation you need and instructions in its use," Ra's cocked his head and smiled again. "Our children are our legacy and must be protected." He got up and left the seating area.

When Ra's was out of sight, Batman's rigid posture slumped a little.

* * *

WAYNE MANSION

GOTHAM CITY

SIX WEEKS LATER

Bruce Wayne sat at the desk he'd had moved into Dick's sick room. He'd taken Dr. Mid-Nite's instructions to heart and spent much of his day in the room with his son. Batman had disappeared from the streets of Gotham as the entire household waited for the inevitable.

The entire JLA had come to visit to present their thanks and their condolences. The T'Shal had left the planet, literally dropping whatever they had been doing in their rush for their space ships. Masses of incomprehensible T'Shal technology was left behind and S.T.A.R. Labs' scientists were having a field day studying it.

Life at Wayne Manor was much quieter. Wayne Enterprises had let it be known that Dick Grayson had suffered a head injury in a car accident and was not expected to recover. Consequently, Bruce Wayne's absence from his usual social commitments went unremarked. The Young Justice team had taken up residence in Gotham and were known to be taking Batman's place for unspecified reasons.

At noon, Alfred brought in a tray with Bruce's lunch and set it on a side table. "Your luncheon, sir," the old butler said, then moved over to the bed. "It's time for the young master's infusion."

Bruce put down the document he had been studying. He had lost a considerable amount of weight over the intervening weeks; his eyes were quiet but shadowed with grief. "Is there any point, old friend? This...shell..isn't Dick. He wanted to die cleanly, not like this."

"Where there is life, there is hope," Alfred said as he adjusted the picc line that had been installed to facilitate infusion of the various drugs that maintained Dick's life. He added a drip bag with a solution of Ra's al Ghul's chemical and stood back to make sure that it was working. "Besides, we do not know that Ra's al Ghul truly cheated you, sir. He has always wanted your cooperation. Surely he knows that if Master Dick does not fully recover that you will never fulfill your end of the bargain."

Bruce got up and took up his position at the foot of Dick's bed. As usual, his son's bright blue eyes were open and staring unfocused at the ceiling. "I think that I was cheated, Alfred. Why? I don't know. When Dick is...gone...I'll be taking that up directly with Ra's al Ghul." His eyes took on a deep icy cast. Having his hopes killed so thoroughly hadn't left him in a forgiving mood.

"I am sorry to hear that, Detective," Ra's al Ghul's voice rang through the room. "I am equally dismayed to hear that the treatment has not had the success which we both hoped for. Since I am an honorable man, I have taken the liberty of preparing a stronger version. I ask only that the original bargain be sustained." In his long-fingered hand, al Ghul held a clear glass phial containing a greenish liquid.

Bruce assessed al Ghul for a long minute before scooping up the phial and handing it to Alfred. "How is it administered?"

"All of it, in a single dose. It will either cure or kill." Ra's nodded to Batman and slipped away.

"Do you want to risk this, sir?" Alfred eyed the phial in his hand doubtfully.

"This is the life that Dick wanted to avoid, so much that he took on a suicide mission," Bruce said. "He, of all people, would want us to try this. Do it."

Bruce watched tensely as Alfred prepared a hypodermic with the undiluted chemical in it and injected it into Dick's line. Then they both sat down to watch and wait.

For sixteen hours, nothing happened. Bruce had sent a protesting Alfred off to bed when it was clear that nothing was happening, but remained behind himself. Seated in a wing chair next to the bed, Bruce spent the time remembering the years since he'd adopted an eight year old circus orphan. Dick had been outgoing, chatty, friendly to everyone. He was the exact opposite of the cautious, quiet Bruce Wayne. The light that the boy had brought to the gloomy mansion had been incredible. Bruce himself hadn't realized just what a difference Dick made until the boy had left to make his own way in the world. He was still sorry that he'd fired Dick as Robin but had to admit that the boy had outgrown the role. He'd needed to be pushed out of the nest, although if he had to do it over, Bruce would have eased him out more gently.

Ra's had said that the chemical would kill or cure. Either outcome was acceptable, Bruce realized. He couldn't condemn someone he loved so much to a living hell. He reached out and took the boy's hand, realizing that Dick had grown much quieter in the past hour. It was ending, then.

Bruce brushed at his eyes, although there was no one there to care if he cried. "Dick, I'm sorry that I wasn't the father you needed. I did my best," he said softly, hoping that his son would hear him somehow.

He heard Dick's breathing slow and soften. The rigidity in his son's body began to relax. The boy's eyes had closed long since and he looked like he was sleeping peacefully at last.

"Good bye, Dick," Bruce bent over and gently kissed his son's forehead. He sat back and realized that, rather than cooling, his son's body seemed warmer than it had earlier. He put a hand on the boy's forehead, then on his cheek. "Dick?"

Dick's eyes began moving under the closed lids, then slowly his eyes opened. They looked up at the ceiling, then around the room, finally focusing on Bruce's face.

"Bruce...?" Dick asked in a hoarse voice. "Why are you crying?"

Bruce ran an arm over his eyes, not letting go of Dick's hand. "Me? I never cry," he said with an enormous grin. "Welcome back."

"What..?" Dick looked around the room and noticed the medical equipment. "What happened? Was it the Joker?"

"Don't you remember? The T'Shal?" Bruce asked.

"The who?" Dick frowned, clearly racking his brains. "I don't know who you're talking about."

Bruce's eyes widened. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Uh...I was programming computers at the Watchtower...I don't remember much after..." Dick's face creased with worry. "What did I miss? Why don't I remember?"

Bruce grinned and moved over to the phone. "It's a very long story. I'll tell you sometime. But I think Alfred will want to see you right now."

"Uh...okay," Dick answered. "When can I get out of bed?" He moved his legs and arms. "How long have I been here?"

Bruce said a quick word to Alfred, then pushed Dick back into the bed. "You've been here for quite a while. Give it time, okay? You've only just woken up." Bruce laughed, then his face grew serious. "Damn."

"What's wrong, Bruce?" Dick asked.

"I'm going to have to pay back my debt to Ra's al Ghul now.'

* * *

THE DEBT-CHAPTER ONE

WAYNE MANOR

SIX WEEKS AND TWO HOURS LATER

Dick sat up in bed with difficulty. Even harder was believing the story Bruce and Alfred had been telling him. If his own body hadn't felt weak and ill, he'd suspect that Bruce was playing some weird practical joke.

"I did what?" Dick asked incredulously, looking frantically from Alfred to Bruce and back again.

"You chased the T'Shal off the planet," Bruce said with the smile that hadn't left his face in the two hours Dick had been awake. "You blasted them with your mind. You made them feel what it was like to be tortured by the Machine and threatened them that if they so much as thought about Earth again, they'd have that feeling again permanently lodged in their minds. J'onn told me that every telepath on Earth heard you." Bruce's expression shifted. "Of course, your doing that was against orders, mine and Dr. Mid-nite. You knew that overextending your powers would probably kill you. As it was, your team pulled you out and brought you back to the Watchtower."

"And you got my treatment from Ra's al Ghul?" Dick's voice rose with indignation. "He'd never do you a favor just because he likes you, Bruce." Dick frowned "What did you promise him?"

"Not relevant, Dick," Bruce said flatly. "That's between me and Ra's." He got up and went for the phone. "I think we need to get you to Dr. Mid-Nite and have him take a look at you. I want to know how recovered you are."

"You mean, maybe I'm still doomed to be a vegetable?" Dick asked with dismay. "Bad enough that I have one of Ra's potions floating around in my bloodstream. How do you know it doesn't have any other side effects?"

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Don't forget that you are already experiencing the best side-effect. You are back with the living, young man, and don't forget it."

Dick smiled at the old man and leaned back against his pillows, suddenly exhausted. Seeing that he was tired, both men reluctantly left the room. Dick let his eyes close and worried. How much had he forgotten? He didn't remember fighting in a war, getting captured, getting tortured for goodness' sake! Saving the world? And now he had some kind of Lazarus chemical in his bloodstream...

Bruce made his call to Dr. Mid-Nite from the batcave. Mid-Nite was jubilant at the news. "Of course I'll see him. Bring him in tomorrow and I'll run the tests. Why, this is wonderful news, Batman." Bruce smiled back.

"I have to agree, Doctor. We'll see you tomorrow." From there, he connected to Superman.

Clark Kent's serious face looked back at him from the screen. Bruce saw Kent's office in the background. "Batman," Kent answered solemnly. "Do you have news?"

Knowing what Kent was expecting, Bruce allowed his face to spread into a broad grin. "He's awake."

Clark's eyes widened. "It worked, then? Finally? Bruce, that's terrific! How is he?"

"So far, so good," Bruce replied. "We'll be at the Watchtower tomorrow to find out what his status is, but so far Dick is coherent and oriented. He's lost his memory of the entire T'Shal war, though, which I don't consider a loss under the circumstances."

"I can see why," Superman replied. "Well, that's a relief. You've made my day," still smiling, Clark cut the line.

Bruce stopped for a moment, just to breathe, then made the next call.

Outside in the hallway, Alfred stopped Bruce from going back into Dick's room. "You'll only wake him and he needs his rest," Alfred insisted.

Bruce smiled ironically. "I'm sorry, Alfred, but I can't shake the feeling that if he sleeps again it'll be forever and we'll have lost him. I just want to watch over him to make sure he's okay."

Alfred smiled back. "Understandable, sir. But you'll have to take this one on faith, that the lad is truly on the mend."

Bruce sighed, glancing at the closed door. "All right. I'll leave him alone but I don't know how you can keep from hovering any more than I can."

Alfred watched him go, then went to the butler's pantry and turned on the security camera in Dick's room. He polished the silver while watching his adopted grandson sleep.

* * *

THE NEXT DAY

THE WATCHTOWER

MEDICAL BAY

"Well, I don't know if it was Lazarus water or something else, but that's quite a difference," Dr. Mid-Nite put the newest MRI scan up on the screens. Where, in the previous scan, Dick's brain had been permeated with holes, the current MRI scan showed a whole brain. "No lesions at all," Dr. Mid-Nite said happily. "Nightwing, do you still have any psychic ability?"

Dick, sitting on the examination table, shrugged. "I don't remember having them in the first place."

Mid-Nite put a pencil on the table. "See if you can lift that with your mind," he ordered.

Dick looked doubtfully at the pencil, but closed his eyes and tried. Nothing happened. "Sorry, I don't know what I'm doing, but I don't think it's working."

"Maybe I can help," J'onn J'onzz opened the door and came in. "I heard from Superman that Nightwing was recovering and I had to verify this myself. Now I see that he is indeed much better. Nightwing, may I scan you?"

Nightwing half-smiled. "Why not? Everyone else is." J'onn stood next to Nightwing, closed his eyes and went silent for a few minutes. At last, J'onn opened them again with an even broader smile. "I read no active psychic ability; no telepathy and no telekinesis. No more than, in Dick's case, just a touch of telekinesis and the bit of telepathy that makes him good on a team."

Batman's stance relaxed. "Thank goodness for that. He just needs to recover from a month spent in a hospital bed and he's good as new?"

"Physical therapy is what I would order now," Mid-Night suggested.

"So, I can get out of bed now?" Dick hopped off the examining table and almost fell over until Batman caught him.

"You'll need some time before you're back up to speed," Batman said.

"Not that long," Dick said. "You just watch me."

Batman covered his smile with a hand. "Of course."

* * *

TWO DAYS LATER

WAYNE MANOR

Dick was walking with difficulty around his room when Alfred announced visitors. "Your friends from Young Justice have arrived to see you, sir," Alfred moved forward to help an unsteady Master Dick into a wing chair.

"Young Justice?" Dick said quizzically. "But, they don't know my real name..."

"Master Bruce decided that it would be for the best to inform them. They have been using the batcave for the past month and are living in the penthouse of the Wayne Building for the time being," Alfred said calmly.

"Wait a minute, for five years I lived with my eyes covered because Bruce was afraid about security and now, he just decided to tell them who we are?"

"I was not privy to Master Bruce's reasons for the disclosure, but I believe it may have something to do with his upcoming business trip and a need for a substitute in Gotham during his absence and your convalescence. Now, shall I let your friends in to see you or shall I tell them that you are indisposed?" Alfred waited patiently for an answer.

"Um...yeah..of course. Let them in," Dick said. "It's going to feel weird seeing them without a mask on my face."

"You will become accustomed to it, I am sure," Alfred replied with a gleam in his eye. "I will bring them upstairs forthwith."

When the door opened, Dick found himself surrounded by his teammates, all busily hugging him frantically. "You're not dead," Wally muttered. "I'm so glad you're not dead, Rob. Or a vegetable."

Artemis spared Wally a brief look, then hugged Dick even harder. "You're finally okay. That damned treatment took too long to work; you had us worried." She straightened up and grinned. "And now I know why you ran up to me at Gotham Academy and took my picture, then told me we'd laugh about it later. You were such a twerp!"

Dick grinned back. "Told ya we'd laugh about it. It just took longer than I expected."

Artemis shook her head. "And who knew that playboy, dimwitted Bruce Wayne was actually Batman. But I should have figured out that his circus-orphan ward was you!"

"I'm glad you didn't," Dick said. "Bruce would have been down on me for breaking security." He looked over at M'gann, who was studying him thoughtfully. "Well? Am I still a telepath?"

M'gann shook her head. "No. No, you aren't any more. You feel like you again."

"Not exactly all of me. I don't remember any of it," Dick said. "The war, getting captured, nothing at all. Must have been great to be able to read minds."

"I don't think you liked it," Conner broke in. "After we rescued you the first time, you didn't say much but you looked angry. And sad."

"There was a reason for that," Alfred, who was serving drinks, handed a Jolt Cola to Wally and an orange juice to Conner. "Master Dick was dying. The same condition that had given him the powers was also killing him slowly. He didn't want anyone told."

Dick's team mates exchanged angry glances. "You didn't want us told?" Artemis demanded. "We had a right to know!"

"I had a feeling it was something like that," Wally said. "Hey!" he said when the team turned their glares on him. "You know somebody for a long time, you can tell when something's off, okay?"

"Well, don't blame me," Dick said easily, taking his iced tea from Alfred. "I don't remember a thing. I just remember Batman firing me as Robin, then programming a bunch of computers at the Watchtower for Superman. I just wish I could believe I did all the heroic things you say I did."

"Oh, you did 'em," Wally said. "My back still has a crick in it from carrying you out of that T'Shal base. I swear, your uniform was smoking and half melted when I got to you."

"When will you be out of bed and back on patrol with us?" Conner asked.

"I don't know," Dick said. "How long was I out? Six weeks? I'll probably have to build up again; a few weeks I guess. How are you guys liking Gotham?"

Artemis snorted. "Gotham is just as dirty and crime-ridden as it's always been, thank you. I'm just glad that Bruce is letting us stay in the penthouse while we're here. I'm not used to luxury like that."

"You should see the kitchen," M'gann added with eyes aglow. "It has a professional kitchen with a full set of Le Creuset cookware! Alfred has given me some of his best recipes to try as well."

Dick's eyes widened. "Not the hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookie recipes...? Alfred, you don't give those to anybody!"

Alfred smiled and took the empty glass away from him. "I do make exceptions from time to time. I sense that M'gann will be an exceptional cook in time."

* * *

WAYNE MANOR

BRUCE WAYNE'S STUDY

Bruce hear the happy sound of young voices coming down the hall from Dick's room. He was glad that he'd decided to let the team in on Dick's true identity, and his own while he was at it. Bruce hear the happy sound of young voices coming down the hall from Dick's room. He was glad that he'd decided to let the team in on Dick's true identity, and his own while he was at it. At the time he'd wanted the team to substitute for Batman while he kept his death-watch, and he'd known that Dick would want them at his funeral. But now that the treatment had actually worked, they were still needed. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. But now that the treatment had actually worked, they were still needed. He picked up the phone and dialed a number.

"Yes, this is Batman," he said into the receiver. "Tell Ra's al Ghul that I'm ready to fulfill my part of the bargain. I understand. Yes...I see. I'll be there tomorrow." Putting the phone down again, Bruce began to pack a bag.


	2. Paying the Debt

CHAPTER 2

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

GOTHAM CITY

Batman reported to an abandoned house a block off Crime Alley. The door was opened immediately to his knock and he was ushered in by a familiar figure, Ubu, Ra's al Ghul's bodyguard and servant. They eyed each other with undisguised rancor, but Ubu showed him into the house's main room where Ra's al Ghul sat in a thronelike chair.

"So, Detective, you have decided to keep our bargain. I'm glad I didn't misjudge you. I take it that the Young Detective is on the mend?"

"He is awake and the brain damage has been healed. All that remains is for him to complete physical therapy and he should be good as new," Batman admitted grudgingly.

"Good," al Ghul said briskly and cast a glance at Ubu. The servant disappeared and returned with a laptop computer, setting it up on a central table. "It is time for me to explain the task I have for you. It is neither simple nor without its danger, yet I am glad to have your services to resolve this problem." Al Ghul nodded and a large screen on the wall lit. "This sort of thing is so much easier in this technological day than in my youth when even the paper was made from scraped hides," he said conversationally. "In any case, behold this man."

The screen showed a man in his middle forties with graying hair and a short beard. "This man, Iskandar, was formerly one of my satraps, the governor of a portion of my empire. I trusted him implicitly and had planned to raise him above his fellows in authority and power. Alas, he was murdered before that became possible. I have narrowed his probable killer to one of three men." He gestured and three photographs flashed on the screen. "These men are all Iskandar's equals in my organization, each having similar power and autonomy within each satrapy."

Batman watched the faces go by on the screen. "Motive?"

"Jealousy, possibly. Or ambition. It was known that I was giving Iskandar greater authority. This is not the first time that someone in my organization sought promotion with a murder," Ra's smiled. "A job risk when working for the League."

"If this is normal for your League, then why hasn't the killer come forward? And why do you care?" Batman stood with arms folded across his chest. "You don't need me."

"Ah," said al Ghul. "I did say that they are brothers. These men, including the murdered one, are my descendants. They are family and the murder of my blood cannot go unavenged. You are here to find the murderer for me so that justice and order may be maintained."

"So why not just put Iskandar's body into a Lazarus pit and ask him who the murderer is?" Batman asked reasonably.

"Alas, although the Lazarus pit is miraculous in its healing power for the dead, a healthy man thrown into it dies and cannot be reborn. Each of these men had access to the pit where Iskandar's body was found." Ra's raised a hand and Ubu put a file folder into it. "Your name will be Asim and I will let it be known that you are to be Iskandar's successor, chosen over the others. You will be given quarters in Gotham City, to develop and organize the new satrapy that I have been formerly prevented from creating by the Batman. You will also teach a master class in combat for these, my satraps, to hone their skills. This will give you an opportunity to evaluate their skills and, " al Ghul cocked his head to one side, eyes glittering. "perhaps teach them something."

"Aren't you concerned about the inside knowledge I gain while organizing your toehold in my city? You know that I'll take you down as fast as I built you up," Batman said calmly.

"No fear, White Ghost will be your aide. He will be doing the actual work while you investigate. And our bargain requires you to pay attention to my interests while you pay back the debt. Recall, that if you break our agreement, I am free to rescind the gift of life to your young protégé. You will find him very dead before you can get to him," the smug satisfaction on Ra's face was hard to take but Batman swallowed down the rage that threatened to overcome him. He'd beaten Ra's before, he would again. The important thing was Dick's continued wellbeing and paying off this debt.

"And Ubu will remain with you as a bodyguard." Ra's continued. At Batman's flinch, Ra's raised a hand. "No, you will be a target throughout your investigation. A man must sleep some time. Ubu will ensure that you can complete your assignment."

"How will my identity remain a secret? My face is known throughout Gotham," Batman asked in a skeptical tone.

"You will wear a mask, Detective, at all times. It is not unusual for a Hashashiyyin to do so. Yes, Detective, we are that old. This organization descends from the ancient killers of the Crusades, as my role derives from the Old Man of the Mountain, although I am not so ancient," al Ghul said. "Shall we get started, then?"

* * *

TWO WEEKS LATER

WAYNE MANOR

Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing, was going through his daily workout. Over a month in a coma, excuse me, persistent vegetative state, had sapped his energy and wasted his muscles. He sometimes wondered if his skills would ever come all the way back. He took a long run to vault the horse, grasping the handles with both hands and swung his legs around and around until one hand slipped and he went over sideways. He banged a shoulder on the horse before he hit the mat and was left cursing under his breath just to get the frustration out of him. He'd lost so much ground; he'd never been this clumsy before, even after major injuries. Even more maddening, he couldn't even remember how he'd been injured so badly this time.

"It takes time to come back from brain injuries, young sir," Alfred handed him a towel and a bottle of water. Dick mopped his face and took a swig. "Even for one as miraculously healed as yours were."

"Alfred, where is Bruce?" Dick put himself directly into Alfred's path. "What did promise Ra's al Ghul? He didn't put me into a Lazarus pit, for God's sake, did he?"

"No, no Lazarus pit. Alfred sighed and shifted his weight. "All that I know, is that Master Bruce was desperate at the time. When the first preparation failed, al Ghul provided a second, stronger dose." He met Dick's blue eyes. "You must understand, my boy, you were dying. It was unmistakable that you had very little time left. Ra's al Ghul offered the only possible cure for you." Alfred took the damp towel from Dick's shoulder and put it into the laundry hamper. "And, as you can see, the cure worked. Within a day, you were complaining about being confined to bed." Alfred cast him a look of mixed guilt and defiance. "And we were grateful!"

"Do you have any left? I'd like to analyze it." Dick said.

"Master Bruce instructed me to destroy the remaining chemicals," Alfred admitted with discomfort. "I...ah...did take the liberty of retaining the original containers. There may be a residue remaining."

"I'll take it," Dick said. "And where is Bruce, anyway? As soon as I woke up, he disappeared."

"You know that Master Bruce has a number of responsibilities and Batman has more," Alfred reminded him. "He is attending to them."

"Just what was his deal with Ra's?"

"I'm afraid I don't know," Alfred replied. "Shortly after we had you walking again, he told me that he was leaving to pay the debt and I have not seen Master Bruce since then. Given the obvious benefit we received, I do not question Master Bruce's bargain." Alfred poked a bony finger into Dick's chest. "And neither should you."

Dick finished off the water bottle and tossed it into the recycle bin. "How long will he be gone?" he said with resignation.

"I believe, about six months. At least that is the period of time that he arranged for the Young Justice team to cover Gotham City." Alfred gave Dick a bright-eyed look. "Shouldn't you rejoin your fellows on active duty? You seem fit enough."

"I suppose so," Dick said, grabbing a second water bottle from the refrigerator. "I know I'm supposed to be a big hero to the League, but...well, all this just makes me feel uncomfortable. It's like they're admiring some stranger named Nightwing, and not me." He sat on the bench, chin on raised knee. "It feels...weird."

Alfred sat down next to him. "I understand, lad. But the fact remains that you are a hero, and no one else. You took on a mission, fully intending to die, and chased the invaders off the planet in a blast of psychic power." Alfred's face dropped for a moment. "Neither Master Bruce, nor I, approve of your approach but we cannot fault your results. Trust me, dear boy. You really did do everything for which you are credited. You've earned the kudos. I would simply ask that you not try to cheat death twice," he said earnestly. "You have already beaten more odds than any man has a right to expect."

"All right, Alfie," Dick replied. "So, I guess I'm up for a patrol tonight, if the team is ready for me."

* * *

GOTHAM SATRAP

LEAGUE OF ASSASSINS

Ra's had rented a small building in a quiet corner of Gotham to house Algol Ventures. Batman was housed on the top floor, sharing living quarters and an office with a large training area. He had to admit that al Ghul knew his business; it duplicated his own penthouse on the top of the Wayne Building.

Before meeting his 'students', he reviewed the files he'd been given. Sayyed, had dark hair, his ancestor's blue eyes and a resolute expression. He was a master swordsman with a Ph.D. in economics. Waqar, an ordinary looking man with brown eyes and hair, sporting a goatee, was an engineer with a black belt in karate. Jamal, an albino with a close resemblance to White Ghost, was also a geneticist.

Cowl pulled back, Batman contemplated the brief biographies he had been given. Each man brought his own skills to the organization and was deadly in his own right. He had asked to examine Iskandar's body but was dismayed to find that it had been rendered into a skeleton by the Lazarus Pit. al Ghul's pathologist had already examined it and found no broken bones. The pit itself gave no clues. Buried underground in London, England, it was a simple hole in the ground. There were no footprints and no witnesses. He would have to work on motive, then, and opportunity.

He dimly wondered how Dick and the team were doing. He assumed that Dick's recovery was proceeding. He had left a number with Alfred to be used in dire emergency and hadn't heard anything, so he supposed that all was well.

* * *

GOTHAM CITY

9:00 P.M.

The team followed the patrol pattern that Dick had set up, focusing on known trouble areas in Gotham. M'gann, who had been acting leader, seemed relieved to pass the burden to Dick.

"I don't like leading the team," she admitted. "I can if I need to, but you're really the leader, Nightwing. We need your experience."

"Thanks," Nightwing said with a smile. It felt good to be back in uniform. He shot a jump line and swung over to the Wayne Tower and gestured for the team to follow. M'gann lifted Superboy and Artemis while Wally 'ran' up the side of the building. Once at the top, Dick posted them at the four quarters with binoculars. "Scan the city and see if there's anything suspicious. I'll start with the Park Row corner and back you up," he said, unlimbering his binoculars.

"You mean Crime Alley, don't you Nightwing?" Wally commented, his goggles adjusted to distance viewing.

"Yeah, what's all this about Crime Alley?" Artemis asked while scanning her portion. "Your voices change when you talk about it, like it's some dreaded horrific place."

Nightwing's face became stony. He supposed it was okay to discuss since they were already in on the secret. "Bruce's parents were killed there by a robber when he was just a kid. Bruce was there and witnessed the whole thing. He's never forgotten it."

"So, that's what made him Batman?" M'gann asked softly. "I had a feeling that there had to be something...big...to compel him to create the Batman."

"Yeah, compelling is the word," Wally said. "You don't want to be around Bruce on the anniversary of his parents' death. I visited Dick once on that day..." he shivered.

"Well, he handles it okay for the most part," Dick said, feeling like he was defending Bruce somehow. "Crime Alley is still the rottenest spot in Gotham; almost cursed. Aaaaand...I think that's where we're going next. Burglary in progress at Denton's Jewelers. Okay, team, we're on!" He shot out a jump line and headed for Park Row. The rest of the team followed, with a little help from M'gann.

Soon they were standing in front of the shattered window. The front door had been hacked through and the sounds of glass cases breaking echoed out into the street. Nightwing ran through the opening, followed closely by the team.

Four masked men were methodically breaking and emptying cases while a fifth was crouched in the back trying to open a floor safe. Nightwing went after him while each of the team took on the rest.

Artemis used a bolo arrow to wrap her target and his loot, then casually grabbed the bag he held. "Wow," she said, peering into the bag. "Nice jewelry."

In the meantime had circled his target to exhaustion, then after tying the man up, quickly swept up the broken glass and stray pieces of jewelry. M'gann and Superboy tied theirs up as well, stacking them next to their fellows. "Now what?" Superboy asked.

"I call Gotham P.D.," Nightwing said. "I have them on speed dial." He took out his cell and made the call. "Okay, back on patrol."

* * *

GOTHAM CITY

3 A.M.

GLADYS' ALL-NITE DINER

(FOUR ROBBERIES, TWO MUGGINGS AND A CAR-JACKING LATER)

"Do you meant to tell me that this is your usual routine? You've been doing this every night for ten years?" Superboy spooned up the last bit of apple pie on his plate. "This is good. Not as good as Ma Kent's, but good."

"Yup, this is our normal routine, isn't it, Gladys?" Dick held his coffee cup so that Gladys could refill it.

Gladys, a heavy-set woman in her sixties, filled all the coffee cups on the table. "Every morning, about three a.m. since this one was a little kid called Robin! I still remember the first night Batman brought him here; his first patrol. You were so excited. "She shook her head and chuckled. "And now, look at you. You're bringing your friends along. So, where is Batman? I've got his favorite banana cream pie ready."

"I'll have some of that, ma'am," Wally offered brightly, handing her his plate. "The apple was marvelous, I'm sure the banana cream is just as good. Two slices, please."

Nightwing grinned and handed Gladys the empty plate. "You'd better just give him half the pie. Don't worry, he'll run it off. So, anyway, Batman's out of town for a bit. We're filling in." Nightwing took a sip of his coffee. "Have you heard anything interesting?"

Gladys set down the coffee pot and glanced around the empty diner. "There's a new gang in town. They're set up in a building just off Crime Alley; they look foreign. Rumor says they're killers for hire working for somebody called the Demon."

Nightwing straightened. "Isn't that where...?" began Artemis when Wally shushed her. She glared at him but remained silent.

"What else do you hear?" Nightwing asked carefully.

"They've been recruiting kids, y'know, street kids into some kind of fighting school. They feed 'em, educate 'em and teach 'em how to kill. At least that's the word. Two of my regulars, you know, the boys I feed out the back door, have disappeared. Word is they were recruited, whether they wanted to go or not," she said in a low voice.

Nightwing's eyes narrowed and he nodded. "Thanks, Gladys. I'll see what I can do about that. I know this group."

Gladys smiled. "Good. I knew you'd know what to do. The desserts and coffee are on the house." She wandered back into the kitchen.

"Isn't that where Batman got your cure from?" demanded Artemis in a whisper. "The Demon?"

"Yeah," Nightwing said, troubled. "Batman's out of town paying off his debt to Ra's al Ghul for my cure and Ra's knows it. He's decided to move in while Batman's gone. Damn! The League of Assassins have been trying to move into Gotham since I was ten years old and Batman always stopped them. Well, they can't have my city. Ra's thinks the City is unprotected, but he's wrong. We're going to drive the Demon and all his goons out of Gotham if it's the last thing I do!"


	3. Opposition

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I'd like to make a request for reviews, here. If you are reading the story, I'd like to hear from you. I've had virtually no response to the chapters I've put up so far and am seriously questioning whether I should keep putting the time and effort in working at this if nobody likes it.

CHAPTER 3

Wally put down his fork, forgetting about the rest of the pie. "Oh, man. Rob, Batman would never have left if he knew that the Demon was gonna set up shop in his city."

"So, what is about the Demon that's bothering you so much? He's a villain, so we take him down," Superboy's stare moved from Wally to Nightwing and back again.

"You don't understand," Nightwing replied. "Ra's al Ghul has resources you can't comprehend. Batman figures he's about a thousand years old. He's got the best assassins on the planet; hand to hand fighters like you wouldn't believe. I should know," Nightwing grinned. "I used to train with them."

"What?" Artemis demanded.

"When I was nine, after Harvey Dent...anyway, Batman wouldn't let me be Robin, so I ran away and got picked up by one of their vengeance academies. For months I was trained as an assassin. I failed my final exam; I refused to murder the target," Nightwing paused in thought. "Even though I had good reason to...Anyway, Batman got me out of there. I didn't see any of Ra's men again until I was sixteen. You remember that semester I did at Hudson University? That criminology course I was signed up for?"

The team nodded, enthralled at this new side of their old teammate.

"When I was at Hudson, Ra's men kidnapped me and drew Batman across half the planet to find me. The reason for the whole thing?" Here, Nightwing grinned broadly. "Ra's daughter Talia had fallen for Batman and wanted to marry him. Ra's offered him the whole shebang, control of the League of Assassins as Ra's son-in-law. Batman turned him down and we got out of there. Not easily." Nightwing tapped a finger on the tabletop. "And now this. Ra's still wants Batman in his organization. He's never stopped trying to persuade him, even after Talia quit hoping to get Bruce to marry her. And now Ra's is here. And Bruce isn't. I don't know...it doesn't add up." Nightwing looked into the distance. "Dammit, Bruce, why did you have to make a deal with _him_?"

"Do you think we'll have to rescue Batman?" Wally asked incredulously.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Nightwing muttered, then caught the expressions on his team-mates faces. "What...? Look, I was his partner for years. Of course I rescued him more than once!" He stood up and put a wad of bills on the table. "G'night Gladys!" he called to the back and turned to his team. "I think we need to call it a night. I want to sleep on all this."

At home at the Manor, Dick pulled off his mask and sat, deep in thought. His skin crawled at the thought of Lazarus chemicals flowing through his bloodstream and now this. Ra's was putting down roots in Gotham again. Batman was missing, working off a debt somewhere. No, not just a debt, Nightwing's debt. Bruce had had no right to make the deal in the first place and now had the gall to pay back Ra's in Nightwing's place. "I'm the one who needed the cure, Bruce. It's my debt. You should have let me pay it," he muttered to himself.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Master Dick," Alfred put down the tray of hot cocoa down onto the study's side table. "I assure you, Master Bruce knew what he was doing."

"Did he, Alfred?" Dick looked up, blue eyes shadowed. "Why can't I shake the feeling that this is all some part of a deeper plan on Ra's' part?" He reached out and took the mug of cocoa. "Thanks, Alfred. When Bruce or I get too far off the beam, you appear to pull us back to reality with hot cocoa and chocolate chip cookies."

"I do my best, sir," Alfred said modestly. "But, may I suggest, it may be more fruitful to begin pruning the branches of the tree before you attack the root? It may well be that Ra's al Ghul has some overarching plan, but you can begin to pare away at his powers by removing his local operations. He may well react and give you some indication of his larger design."

"That' s a good idea, Alfie," Dick replied. With a grin, he grabbed a couple of cookies and got up. "I think I'll go work on something else for the time being."

He found his way blocked by Alfred. "Sir, it is now 5:30 a.m. and I would suggest you go to bed now. You are still recovering from your illness and are not in a condition to burn the candle at both ends as Master Bruce so often does."

Dick reflected that it was amazing how much more frightening Alfred could be than Bruce, when he really, truly means it. Dick put the cookies back. "Um...okay, Alfie. I'm going to bed now."

"Just so, sir," was the butler's calm response.

* * *

GOTHAM CITY SATRAPY

"And this is Shrike," White Ghost gestured towards a young man in a mask who was directing a dozen adolescent boys in a series of katas. "He is in charge of our training program, our "vengeance academy". When they are fully trained, they will become our foot soldiers."

"I know," Batman said, dryly. "After Robin had trained with one for four months, he came back to me with his fighting skills much refined as well as some new jiu-jitsu moves." His eyes sharpened. "I don't recognize this Shrike, though. He's not very old, is he?"

"He was trained in the same class that Robin attended," White Ghost said in a bland tone. "The only member not apprehended by Commissioner Gordon and his force, as I understand." White Ghost gestured and Ubu opened the door, then checked the hallway before allowing Batman to exit. He then led the way to the waiting car outside.

"Next on your schedule is an introductory class with the satraps you are here to train. You will have fifteen minutes to dress and prepare," White Ghost said.

Gesturing at Ubu, Batman asked, "Does he have to be here all the time? We're inside your headquarters; he's hardly necessary here."

"They are not our headquarters, but yours," White Ghost replied. "And yes, Ubu is necessary. Not only for protection but as an added indicator of your stature within the organization."

"I see," Batman half-smiled. "I'm at the level that rates an entourage, huh. All right, show me the locker room."

He began by sparring briefly with each man. The first, Sayyed, might have been a swordsman but he was also very good at hand to hand combat, but when Batman did a back flip with kick capoeira move that Dick had taught him, he got Sayyed to the head and made him stay down. While the servants scrambled to help Sayyed up, Batman merely said, "Waqqar..."

Waqqar was better, since he had a karate background. Accordingly, Batman fought defensively and watched carefully to tally the man's weaknesses. Waqqar had had judo training, and jiu-jitsu, so Batman stepped it up a bit. Soon, the workout area was a shambles as each man used whatever was handy as weaponry. Finally, Batman brought him down with the simple expedient of a right cross to the jaw.

Again the servants scrambled. Batman was left with Jamal. The albino was leaning in a relaxed position. "Asim, I don't see a need for you to beat me to a pulp." Jamal straightened and smiled. "I am not the hand to hand combatant that my brothers are, and I admit this. Rather, I prefer the more subtle methods of the knife and garrote, generally with much advance planning. You do not need to demonstrate your superiority to me; I acknowledge it."

Batman relaxed minutely. "Well, then, would you like to spar for a while? I may be able to teach you a few techniques."

Jamal grinned. "Gladly. I simply ask that you not beat me to unconsciousness as you have the others."

Batman gave him a wolfish grin back and the two began circling.

* * *

GOTHAM CITY

3 P.M.

Nightwing stood outside the location of the rumored 'vengeance academy'. It was on the Gotham docks, a warehouse on the water in a familiar district for Nightwing. Too familiar. Half the criminal deals went down in this area, so he guessed it wasn't surprising they'd chosen to locate here. In fact, it was half a block away from the academy's prior location. He made a mental note to find out who owned the block.

"Ready to go?" he transmitted telepathically.

"I'm fine," Artemis replied from the roof of the building across the street.

"Ready," Wally said from his spot at the back entrance.

"Okay here," M'gann replied from the side entrance near the dumpsters.

"Fine by me," Superboy rumbled in a low voice next to him.

"Okay, by the numbers," Nightwing sent and went into the building, closely followed by Superboy.

Inside, they found a single man and a group of young boys, about a dozen of them, he estimated. None of the youths were over the age of twelve.

"All right, this vengeance academy is closed," Nightwing announced. "You boys, go outside and you will be taken to the Wayne Center for Youth, a drop-in center for homeless kids. They'll get you set up with food and shelter.

Looking over their shoulders, two immediately got up and ran for the door. "Gladys' two boys, you think?" Superboy said into the telepathic line.

Nightwing smiled. "Oh, I think so."

"Stop!" Shrike yelled. "Attack these intruders!" He gestured to the remaining boys, who began to reluctantly level attacks at Nightwing and Superboy.

Tossing the boys easily off of them, Nightwing and Superboy made their way to Shrike's position in the middle of the room. As they got closer, Nightwing realized that he recognized the face. "Boone!"

Shrike pulled up short and took a second look at Nightwing. "I know that voice..." He grinned, showing all his teeth. "Freddy Loyd, our traitor. I've been waiting for a chance at you."

"You want me to take him down?" Superboy asked as the remaining boys in the dojo scattered.

"No," Nightwing said calmly, aloud. "Go help the team get the kids situated. I can take Boone. I always could."

Giving his leader a doubtful look, Superboy nodded and went out the door. "Okay. Call me if you need me."

"You're not the only one who's been waiting for this," Nightwing grinned back as he began to circle his old friend and nemesis.

* * *

GOTHAM CITY SATRAPY

3:45 p.m.

White Ghost approached Batman and interrupted a very enjoyable and challenging sparring session.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Asim, but there has been an incident that requires your attention," White Ghost said carefully.

Raising an eyebrow, Jamal backed away from his opponent. "I'll be off to the showers then, Asim. Thank you for the work out. I look forward to more."

"As do I," After the man left the room, Batman pulled off the mask and began to towel his face. "What is it?"

"It seems that Nightwing, your protégé, has broken up the vengeance academy and dispersed the students. He is currently in battle with the Shrike and looking likely to win." White Ghost frowned. "The satrap must be seen to control the problems of the satrapy."

"Indeed, Detective," Ra's al Ghul approached the two men. "I must ask you to control your son. His motives are commendable, as is his devotion to your legacy in your absence. Still," Ra's eyebrows drew close together. "Our normal procedure is to kill anyone who opposes us. Nightwing gets no special favors on that count. If you do not remove him as a problem, we will remove him for you. Permanently."


	4. Showdown

CHAPTER 4

Grinning, Nightwing circled his old pal Boone, now known as Shrike. Boone had improved, but Nightwing had always been the better fighter. He pulled his escrima sticks and charged Boone. Predictably, Boon reacted. He'd never been one for strategy or planning. Good. Dick grinned wider.

"I've killed forty people since you betrayed us, Freddy. You couldn't even kill your one,' Boon feinted left but Nightwing wasn't fooled.

"I don't kill, Boone," Nightwing landed a blow on Boone's nose, then followed up with a kick that threw Boone off side. "I don't need to."

"So, Freddy," Boone panted, wiping blood off his nose, circling. "You were really Robin the whole time? I hear that the vigilante life doesn't pay." He managed to land a blow to Nightwing's ribs, driving the air out of his lungs. Scrambling to his feet, Nightwing rushed Boone, landing blow after blow until Boone couldn't keep up and finally lay semi-conscious on the floor. "You don't fight much, do you Boone?" Nightwing said, tying Boone's wrists and ankles with zip ties. "Assassins never do. They just kill." Pausing at the doorway, he put through a call to Gotham P.D. "Bye, Boone," Nightwing said and stepped out the door.

* * *

"You do understand that as satrap, you can't be seen to condone Nightwing's interference with our organization," Ra's asked with gentle voice and rising eyebrow. "You are bound to be loyal to the League of Assassins until your debt is paid in full."

Jaw working, Batman nodded. "I'll deal with him. But understand this, Ra's, if you do anything to him, so much as a stubbed toe, I'll destroy you and your organization." Eyes glittering coldly, Batman stalked away from Ra's and White Ghost. Ubu tried to follow him but stopped at Batman's threatening glare.

"He can't be serious, Master," said White Ghost, watching him go. "No man has that power."

Ra's watched meditatively. "What a single man has built, a single man can topple; especially this one. Troublesome as the boy is, he is our leverage on the Batman. Nightwing cannot die yet. Have you sent reinforcements to the vengeance academy?"

"I have, Master. They found it empty but for a bound and furious Shrike. He swears that he will have his revenge on Nightwing."

"Well enough. Tell Shrike that he must wait, but not too long."

* * *

OUTSIDE THE GOTHAM SATRAPY COMPOUND

"Batman to Justice League, Clark do you read me?" Batman said in a low voice.

"I read you, Batman," Superman's calm voice came through the communicator. "What can I do for you? How is Dick recuperating?"

"Back to full duty," Batman said ironically. "Clark, can you do me a favor? I'm working on something very delicate and can't let the team or Dick know about the details. Can you assign the team to something remote and time-consuming? Preferably off-planet?"

Batman heard the smile in Superman's voice. "Nightwing's a little too active for you? Okay, I guess I can come up with something. Anything I can help with on the case?"

Batman glanced around, making sure that he was alone. "No, I can handle it. I just want to make sure that the team is safe."

"By team, you mean Nightwing, don't you?" Superman said, amused. "Okay, Bruce, I'll ship them off planet for you. They'll be getting their orders later today. Good with you?"

"Sounds fine, Clark," Batman said with relief. "And thanks." He put the communicator away. Once Nightwing was safely out of Ra's' reach, Batman could buckle down to solving this case. The sooner he got out of debt to Ra's al Ghul, the happier he'd be.

* * *

BATCAVE

GOTHAM CITY

"Are you certain that the Green Lanterns need us for this diplomatic mission?" Miss Martian asked in disbelief. "We are not trained for diplomacy, but rather in covert activities."

"In the right embassies, there isn't much difference," Superman said blandly. "We feel that this would be a good training experience for all of you. Can you leave tonight?"

"So how far away is this planet?" Wally asked.

"It's about forty light years from Earth," Superman replied. "Not too far, but you'll be gone for a couple of weeks."

"What about Gotham City?" Superboy demanded. "I thought we were filling in for Batman?"

"Batman has cleared this for you. I spoke with him this morning," Superman replied.

"That's more than I've been able to do, Clark," Nightwing nibbled on a thumbnail. Something about this didn't feel right. True, he'd closed down the new vengeance academy this morning, but it still rankled to be asked to leave Gotham undefended. "I'd like to confirm this with Batman first."

"I'm sorry, Nightwing, but that's not possible," Superman said. "Batman said he's involved in something pretty delicate and doesn't want to be contacted. You'll have to trust me on this one."

Nightwing made his mind up. "Okay, M'gann you're team leader for the duration. You take the rest of the team off-planet for this diplomatic thing. I'll stay here and watch over Gotham in Batman's absence."

Superman frowned. "That isn't what Batman...uh...would want. I think that the entire team should go."

Nightwing turned a steady gaze to the man of steel, whom he'd known since he was a ten year old Robin. Clark was a lousy liar; something was up. "No, Clark, I think I need to stay here. If you talk to Batman, let him know that."

Clark knew that stubborn look as of old. Dick Grayson, when his mind was made up, could not be budged. Not even by the man of steel. "All right, those of you who are going, take the zeta tube to the Watchtower at midnight tonight. Your ship will be waiting for you.

* * *

GOTHAM CITY SATRAPY

3:00 A.M.

Superman put through a quiet call to Batman, hoping that it was a safe time. "Batman here," Bruce Wayne's voice said crisply. "I hope that this is an emergency."

"Bruce, I'm sorry, the team is leaving but Dick refuses to go."

Bruce rubbed at his bleary eyes and cursed Dick's stubbornness. "Did he give a reason?"

"He just said that he felt that Gotham should be protected while you were away. I'm sorry. I did try to persuade him." Superman did sound contrite.

Bruce sighed. "Okay, I'll take it from here," he said and signed off. Well, the vengeance academy was closed. Hopefully Dick would go back to his usual patrol activities and not make the League of Assassins his personal target. Batman snorted. Yeah, in which reality would that be true? He picked up the communicator and made a call.

Nightwing was in the batcave at the computer when the call came in. A very tired and disgruntled looking Batman appeared in the screen. "Dick, you've got to stand down," Batman said briefly.

"And a good morning to you, too, Bruce," Nightwing said cheerily and took a sip of his Blast (tm) cola. "To what do I owe this unannounced call after you've been gone and damned incommunicado for weeks?"

"I'm working on a case and I need you out of it," Batman said coldly.

Dick leaned back in the chair. "I see. And would you care to share the details of this case with your erstwhile partner?"

"No."

"Then I don't know what I need to stand down from, Bruce," Nightwing answered with a dangerous fire in his eye. "If this is one of those times when you're hiding something from me, remember that I'm all grown up now and I don't need to be protected!" Nightwing waited for the comeback that never came. "C'Mon, Batman, this is me...the crime fighter formerly known as Robin! Ra's has you cornered somewhere, doesn't he?" Nightwing shifted in the chair. "Let me help."

"I need to do this alone," Batman replied, frowning heavily.

"It's my debt, Bruce," Nightwing said steadily. "Not yours."

"I'm doing this alone. You are not to become involved. Leave Ra's al Ghul and the League of Assassins alone! That's an order!" Batman briefly wondered why these conversations always ended up the same way, with shouting...

"You're in too deep," Nightwing insisted. "This is just like that thing with Zucco, Bruce, isn't it?"

"No. And that's my final answer. Stay away." Batman frowned at the stubborn face of his adopted son and signed off. His head had started pounding some time during the call and he knew that he'd lost control of his temper. But that boy, that stubborn, insubordinate...A vivid memory sprang to mind, of Alfred once commenting that Dick got his stubbornness from his father. Both of them.

* * *

GOTHAM CITY

ALGOL VENTURES WAREHOUSE

3 DAYS LATER

10:00 p.m.

Nightwing crouched on the rooftop overlooking the Algol warehouse. He'd been watching the trucks unload all evening. His sources had heard about a shipment of looted antiquities expected tonight, unloaded at the Gotham docks. He'd followed the trucks here to one of Ra's' warehouses. Why was he not surprised? It was clear that in Batman's absence, Ra's was setting up a full shop, and furnishing it, too. He used a line to slide off the roof and took up a new position near the doorway. The final crate unloaded and the workers were ready to leave. Good. Lights off and the door padlocked shut. The trucks backed out and soon all was quiet.

He looked at the padlock and smiled. The lock picks made quick work of it and soon he had the door swung open. By the second crate he was sure he'd found pay dirt. Etruscan pottery, he thought, probably looted from undiscovered graves. He spat on one and rubbed the dirt off; this one was a Greek black figure krater and valuable. Oh, this was going to blacken Ra's eye for sure.

He moved away from the crates for better reception and had hit the speed dial for Gotham P.D. when the warehouse was flooded with light. He squinted against the brilliance and found himself surrounded by goons with swords. He lost count at seventeen, when the first one attacked.

* * *

GOTHAM SATRAPY

ALGOL VENTURES OFFICE

11:00 P.M.

"Master, as you anticipated, the warehouse was staked out by Nightwing. Our men have apprehended him and brought him to a secure location," White Ghost smirked. "Batman's attempt at calling his son off have been ineffective."

"Apparently so," Ra's replied, moving swiftly from the room. "With these interruptions, Batman can scarcely have had time to solve our little mystery. Please inform Asim of his little problem and ask him to resolve it post haste, lest I resolve it for him." He opened a door and settled himself into a chair set behind a two way mirror. "Let us see whether Batman is willing to abide by the spirit of our bargain, shall we?"

The other side of the mirror showed a stone-lined room. A single drain was set in the middle of a recess in the stone floor. While Ra's watched, two soldiers tossed a battered and struggling Nightwing into the room. His uniform was torn in multiple places. Mask, gloves and boots had been taken from him.

Nightwing slowly picked himself off the icy floor and wiped the blood out of his eyes. His hair was clotted in clumps from the cut that ran from front to back along his skull. Bloody, as all head wounds were, but not dangerous. He eyed his surroundings with narrowed eyes and spotted the mirror. Clearly a two-way. Somebody was watching, then.

He'd done his best, but with the extra numbers they'd brought him down pretty quickly. He also had to admit that his reaction time wasn't back up to his old norm, either. Stupid! Stupid! And, as Batman was fond of pointing out, stupid was dead, often as not.

"Well?" He shouted at the mirror. "What is it you want? Huh? If you wanted me dead, I'd be dead already!" He rolled his shoulders, one by one, trying to loosen them and be ready for another fight. "C'mon!"

A door opened opposite the mirror and five men walked in. The first three were clearly high in the League of Assassins. They moved softly but with menace and eyed Nightwing with barely concealed malice. The next man into the room, Nightwing recognized. "Ubu? Hey, Ubu! Long time no see! Am I gonna get to see Ra's this trip?"

Ubu said nothing, running his eyes over Nightwing coldly. He took up a position against the wall. Another man entered the room.

He entered silently, walking softly with a fluidity that seemed vaguely familiar to Nightwing. He was dressed in black desert robes and baggy trousers. He was masked, wearing fabric that covered his face with a sheer covering that disguised his eyes, although Nightwing could see them glitter behind the covering. He was tall, Nightwing guessed about six foot two or three, about Bruce's height. The man gestured to Ubu, who stepped in next to him, then spoke softly into Ubu's ear. Ubu nodded and addressed Nightwing.

"Master Asim says that you are unworthy of his direct address. I speak with his voice. You are Nightwing, yes? A Gotham City vigilante?"

"I am," Nightwing replied, annoyed at having to wipe the blood out of his eyes again. "So why can't Asim speak for himself? Cat got his tongue?"

"You will address the Master with courtesy or suffer the consequences," Ubu declared.

"Yeah, right," Nightwing said casually. "So, what is it that Master Asim wants?" Nightwing grinned as obnoxiously as he knew how. "You sure bundled him up good. What is it? Bad hair day?"

Asim made a hand gesture and one of the senior assassins backhanded Nightwing across the face. Nightwing pushed himself upright, rubbing at his jaw. "Okay, I get it. So I was interfering with your shipments. You don't belong in Gotham; I'm here to make sure you leave." The assassin made as if to deliver another blow, when Asim's hand stopped him. Asim whispered something into Ubu's ear. Ubu nodded and spoke to Nightwing.

"Today's attack must not be repeated. You will focus your attention on the other criminal activities that plague Gotham and leave the League of Assassins alone. If you do not obey, you will be killed, as will your mentor, Batman."

"What have you done with Batman?" Nightwing demanded of Asim. "You have him? Where? Here?" As he shouted, Nightwing charged at Asim.

The same assassin as before pushed Nightwing back into the room. Ubu continued. "This is your only warning. Batman is unharmed and will continue so if you cooperate. This is only for a limited period of time, while Batman repays the debt he owes to Ra's al Ghul."

Eyes wide, Nightwing ran his gaze from one man to the next, assessing their likely abilities, then focused on the mirror. "It isn't his debt," Nightwing said from between gritted teeth. "The medicine was for me. It saved my life. He has no right to pay my debt for me. I demand the right to work off my own obligations!"

Asim whispered something to Ubu. "You are not a party to the bargain made between Ra's al Ghul and Batman; you have no right to make demands. You will leave this organization alone or pay the price."

"Like Hell I will," Nightwing yelled and charged Asim at full speed. "Get out of my CITY!" He aimed a high kick at Asim and was startled when the assassin blocked it and threw him back onto the floor, then pinned him without even breathing hard. Still having trouble seeing, Nightwing couldn't brush the blood out of his eyes because his wrists were restrained.

Ubu continued. "Will you agree, on your honor as Batman's protégé, that you will leave this organization alone until Batman has paid his debt?"

Nightwing grinned fiercely and spat blood into Asim's face. "No," he grated. "I don't make that kind of promise to criminals."

It seemed to him that Asim sighed a little, then reached down and calmly aimed a powerful blow at his left shin. Nightwing felt the bone crack and yelped with the white-hot pain of it. Asim let him go, leaving Nightwing to grab his leg and writhe with agony. As they carried him from the room, Nightwing cast a look of hatred at the stolid figure standing quietly with arms crossed on his chest.

Before they dumped him in Crime Alley, Ubu repeated the threat. "You will leave all League of Assassin activities strictly alone. You have been warned."


	5. The Importance of Family

CHAPTER 5

GOTHAM SATRAPY

12:30 A.M.

Asim/Batman excused himself and returned to his quarters. His right hand was still shaking. But, he reminded himself, it was necessary. Dick had to stay out of this. Ra's didn't know that Batman had overheard a quiet conversation between Ra's and his second in command a few days ago:

_"You do understand that as satrap, you can't be seen to condone Nightwing's interference with our organization," Ra's had told Batman with deceptive gentleness. "You are bound to be loyal to the League of Assassins until your debt is paid in full."_

_Jaw working, Batman had nodded. The threat to Dick's life had been hanging over him since the day he'd made the bargain with Ra's. No one knew better than Batman the extent to which Ra's revenge could take. "I'll deal with him. But understand this, Ra's, if you do anything to him, so much as a stubbed toe, I'll destroy you and your organization." Eyes glittering coldly, Batman had stalked away from Ra's and White Ghost. Ubu tried to follow him but stopped at Batman's threatening glare, remaining behind. _

_As he closed the door behind him, Batman heard Ra's' voice and stopped to listen. What he heard pulled him up short, his lips tightening._

_"He can't be serious, Master," White Ghost had said. "No man has that power."_

_Ra's had replied. "What a single man has built, a single man can topple; especially this one. Troublesome as the boy is, he is our leverage on the Batman. Nightwing cannot die yet. Have you sent reinforcements to the vengeance academy?"_

_"I have, Master. They found it empty but for a bound and furious Shrike. He swears that he will have his revenge on Nightwing."_

_"Well enough. Tell Shrike that he must wait, but not too long," Ra's had concluded._

_What have I gotten myself into? Batman had wondered and had immediately decided that Nightwing had to be taken out of the equation. Nightwing was leverage against Batman. As long as there was a threat to the boy, Batman was hamstrung. He had his suspicions about the nature of this 'murder' he was here to investigate._

Damn that stubborn, pig-headed, arrogant idiot of a son of his! Batman clenched and unclenched the offending fist, then removed the mask and head covering that Asim had to wear. Pulling out a transmitter, he made a call. "Alfred, it's Batman," he said tensely.

"Yes, sir," the butler replied. "What can I do for you?"

"Go to Crime Alley immediately. You'll find Nightwing there with a leg injury. If I did it right, he should only have a broken fibula, but he'll need to see Leslie for x-rays and a cast." Bruce ran a hand through his hair, matted by the mask and head covering. "And I want you to keep him home until I tell you otherwise. Trank him if you have to, but do not let him outside the manor!"

"Is there some danger I should know about?" Alfred queried.

"Too complicated to explain," Batman said. "Ra's knows about the cave but I don't think he knows about the panic room. Make sure it's stocked and ready for use; I don't know if Ra's will make a move on Dick, but it's possible. And don't tell Dick I called, he's already fighting me on this. Just...keep him..."

"Safe, sir? Of course I will," Alfred replied soothingly. "And as for yourself, sir, please do the same."

* * *

GOTHAM CITY

CRIME ALLEY

1:00 a.m.

Shivering and clutching his bad leg, Nightwing noticed dimly that Alfred had arrived in one of the Wayne SUV's. Armed with a flashlight, Alfred dropped to his knees next to the vigilante.

"Hi, Alfie," Nightwing said tiredly. "Nice of you to drop by. Who called you? I didn't. They took away all my toys." He held up gloveless hands.

"Shall we say that I, too, have my sources?" Alfred said, examining his leg. "A leg injury, I assume? Off to Leslie's then." Alfred wrapped a coat around Nightwing and, picking him up, hauled him to the SUV. "Are you sorry that I stopped by?" Alfred propped him into a seat and helped to buckle him in.

"No, no regrets," Nightwing lay his head back against the head rest and rubbed his unmasked eyes. "They unmasked me. Could have been a problem if the press had seen me."

"Then let us be grateful that I arrived quickly," Alfred replied and gunned the engine.

* * *

Shortly thereafter, Leslie Thompkins was clucking over him.

"All right, what was it now? Bad fall or bad guy?" she asked as she maneuvered the x-ray machine over his leg.

Trying to hold still for the x-ray, Nightwing gritted out. "Bad guy. He's now on the top of my shit list. Works for Ra's al Ghul. Gonna get my special attention now."

"Well, maybe not immediately," Leslie said a few minutes later. "Your bad guy broke your fibula. It's non-displaced, so I think we can treat it with an air cast and rest on your part." She made eye contact, staring deeply into Nightwing's blue eyes. "And that means, no vigilante activities. Got that?"

"I understand, Dr. Thompkins, even if he does not," Alfred replied, noting the stubborn set to Dick's face. "I'll see to it."

Armed with the crutches Leslie had given him, Dick followed Alfred into the mansion. Fortunately, the he and Bruce had had enough injuries through the years that Bruce had installed an elevator, so he didn't have to take the stairs. Alfred helped him down the hall to his room and tucked him into bed. "I shall leave the crutches here for your use, Master Dick," the butler said. "But I do not want to see you leaving your suite or resuming any...er...'bat' duties. You are to rest and recover. Is that understood, young man?"

Dick rolled his eyes. "Yes, Alfred. I understand."

"Very well, then. I shall bring you some hot chocolate and a small snack, then I expect you to go to bed for the night," Alfred closed the door to the sound of a muffled "Yes, Alfie," from inside the room.

When the sound of the butler's footsteps had faded, Dick sat up in bed and hopped over to his personal computer. Fortunately, his computer was set up to communicate with the Cray mainframes in the cave. He pulled up Batman's file on Ra's al Ghul's organization and went looking for the name "Asim".

Alfred caught him red-handed ten minutes later. "Young sir, I specifically told you not to continue working at this late hour. Here is your hot cocoa," Alfred set the tray down on the night stand and moved over to his charge. "I will assist you back to bed, sir." He reached out and turned the computer unceremoniously 'off'.

"Hey! I was reading that!" Dick protested as he was forcibly assisted back to bed. Alfred handed him the mug of chocolate and stood by, watching him drink it.

"Uh, this is a little weird, Alfie," Dick said nervously. He'd rarely ever seen Alfred so insistent.

"When you finish your cocoa, I shall take my leave," the butler insisted.

Before he'd taken the last sip, Dick began to feel incredibly drowsy. He put the cup down before he dropped it and began an uncontrollable yawn. Looking up, he saw a look of mute satisfaction on Alfred's face and suspicion dawned. "Hey! You doped my cocoa, Alf...red...What's..." His eyes began to close on a series of yawns and before he knew it, Dick was sinking back into his very comfortable bed.

Alfred picked up the tray and shook his head. "Tsk, Master Dick, the things I do for your welfare and that of Master Bruce!"

* * *

WAYNE MANOR

7 A.M.

Dick Grayson slept deeply despite the pain in his leg. As he woke, he supposed that was why Alfred had drugged him. Alfred knew that Dick hated taking painkillers, so he'd made the decision himself. Dick stretched his arms over his head, yawning widely, then heard the rattle of metal. Looking at his feet, he saw that his good ankle was chained to the bed.

"ALFRED!"

* * *

GOTHAM SATRAPY

7 A.M.

Bruce woke to the sound of a tapping at his door. He donned a robe and his mask and opened the door, expecting the servant who normally brought him breakfast. To his surprise, Ra's al Ghul stood in the doorway, followed by a servant carrying a tray. "May I join you for breakfast?" al Ghul asked.

"I suppose so," Bruce said and gestured toward the table, set in an ornate niche of the suite. Al Ghul gestured to the servant who promptly began setting out a breakfast for two. Both men sat down to a simple breakfast of toast, yogurt and tea.

"I choose an abstemious breakfast, Detective," al Ghul commented. "In my centuries as a doctor, I have found that simple food is best."

"I have no objection," Bruce replied, spooning up the yogurt. "So, Ra's, I've been looking into Iskandar's murder and I have a few questions for you."

"Indeed? Please ask," al Ghul replied.

"According to the dossier you gave me, Iskandar was born in London, England, educated there and later came to America as part of your organization. He died at the age of forty six. Is that correct?" Bruce's blue eyes sharpened, watching al Ghul's face carefully.

"Why yes, that is correct. Iskandar was educated at Eton and later at Oxford before he came to the United States. Why do you ask?"

"I examined the body you provided me with. An analysis of the strontium isotopes in the body's bones and teeth show that he grew up in the Middle East. His bones also show that he was barely out of his teenage years; the cranial sutures of the skull were still unfused. I don't know who this person was, but he wasn't Iskandar. Why did you call me here, really, Ra's?"

Ra's poured himself more tea. "One of the many reasons I respect you, Detective, is your understanding of the importance of family. I had hoped, and still hope if truth be told, that you will marry my daughter Talia. She loves you and you do not seem unattracted to her."

Bruce waved a hand. "That's all water under the bridge, Ra's."

"Not precisely," Ra's replied. "When you came to me, concerned about the fate of an adopted son, I saw an opportunity. For if you were so fearful for a son who is not, after all, of your blood, how careful would you be for one of your actual descent? Blood is important. The only thing we truly have in this world is family."

Bruce frowned. "What is your point, Ra's?"

Ra's glanced at the servant who quietly left the room. "I created the ideal niche for you in the city you love. The Gotham Satrapy is yours, to run, to rule and eventually to pass on to your son when you take over leadership of the League of Assassins when I retire."

"We've been over this already, Ra's," Bruce snapped. "I don't want to marry Talia. And as for sons, I don't think Dick wants to join the League of Assassins."

"I speak of the true heir to your endeavors," Ra's said. "Grayson has served his purpose in drawing here so that I may put the true proposition to you. He can now be replaced by your true descendant. Ah, Damian, come here boy."

The servant had returned and held the hand of a five year old boy with dark shaggy hair, piercing blue eyes and a scowl on his face. Damian reluctantly approached the old man.

"This is my grandson, Damian, born of my daughter Talia five years ago," Ra's al Ghul said. "Damian, greet your father."

Damian gave the astounded Bruce Wayne a short bow then said, "I had imagined you taller and more frightening, Father."


	6. Pretender to the Throne

CHAPTER 6

With difficulty, Bruce schooled his expression to his normal impassivity. "I'm pleased to meet you, Damian," he said. He turned to Ra's. "Can you prove his paternity?"

Ra's face took on a gentle smile. "I can present you the DNA test reports. Or, if you wish, you may take a sample from Damian and run the test yourself. I assure you, he is yours. You must note the resemblance."

Bruce silently had to admit that Ra's was right. Damian looked much like he had as a young boy. Damian waited patiently for Bruce's recognition, much more quietly than was normal for any other five year old Bruce had known. "Sit down, Damian. Tell me about yourself." He gestured toward the third chair at the table.

Damian seated himself and watched his father closely. "What do you want to know? I am trained in five different types of armed combat and have mastered judo, karate and sanshou. I have, so far, killed three men during my training sessions. I am fluent in four languages and competent in three more." The boy stopped and continued studying Bruce.

Bruce himself was floored. That the boy had been forced to something like maturity as if he were a hothouse plant wasn't surprising, given his origins, but he was frighteningly competent. And there was another thing. "You've killed three men?" Bruce asked.

"Yes. The first was a prisoner which I beheaded. The second, I ran through with a sword. The third I strangled to death in a duel." Damian stopped and sat expectantly, as though waiting for praise.

"You have taught my son to kill?" Bruce asked Ra's softly, eyes never leaving the young boy's face. "What do you expect me to do with him?"

"Why, train him yourself, Detective. His intelligence tests out at a genius level. He has been well educated academically as well as physically. He will make a fine heir to your wealth and your legacy," Ra's watched Bruce eagerly.

"I have also trained him, Beloved," Talia said from the doorway. She looked as beautiful as ever. Her long, glossy hair fell over the shoulders of the red silk cheongsam she wore. Bruce noted that it was slit too far up her thigh for decency and reminded himself that getting involved with this woman again would entangle him far too deeply in al Ghul affairs.

"In the art of murder, Talia?" Bruce asked her evenly.

"I have taught him about his father. I have told him stories of the Batman's bravery in battle, of the respect in which he is held and the greatness of the bloodline Damian inherits. He has long wished to meet you." She moved toward the table and rested a hand on her son's shoulder. "Damian has worked very hard to hone his skills and impress you when you should finally meet."

Bruce leaned back in his chair, studying the vignette of Talia and her son. If he saw himself in the boy, he also saw Talia in the shine of the boy's hair and the quickness of his gaze. Ra's stood up, smiling still. "I'll let the three of you have some time alone together. Daughter," he leaned in and kissed Talia on the cheek. "I trust that you will be at your most persuasive with the Detective. I shall see you both at luncheon," Ra's gestured to the two parents and walked over to the doorway. The servant let him out and followed.

Bruce sighed. "Talia, what's really going on here? Your father says that he wants me to take over the Gotham satrapy and then brings Damian, here, into the room. Is he really ours?"

Talia smiled in amusement, a dimple appearing in her cheek. "Oh yes, he is ours, Beloved. What Father offers is the culmination of my dearest dream. The three of us together, a family." She gestured toward Damian. "You with work that suits you and the prospect of future greatness as my father's successor. And you, to train up your own successor to carry on both bloodlines into the future. Our son will rule, the country and then the world one day. Together, there is nothing that we cannot do!"

"I...see," Bruce replied. "Your plan means that you and I marry or at least live together as a couple. What about the loved ones I already have?" Thoughts of Alfred and Dick flashed through his mind. He was glad that he'd called the butler and warned him.

"They are unimportant," she said dismissively. "Pension the old man off, and as for the boy you adopted...Surely he can find another city to protect since Gotham is yours? He isn't a factor." She leaned forward against the table. "Don't you see, Beloved? This way you can have all those things you value so much: your city, your identity as Batman, your family home. You lose nothing by it. And you gain a son!" She said the last with eyes glowing.

"Talia," Bruce began. "You don't understand. I have a life that I'm not willing to give up. I don't want to be your father's heir, nor am I ready to play happy families with you and Damian. I already have commitments and responsibilities that I can't simply drop."

"Don't I please you, Father?" Damian asked solemnly.

"Damian, I am very impressed with your accomplishments. But this is about more than simply your upbringing. You understand honor, don't you?" Surely the grandson of Ra's al Ghul had been taught a sense of honor, however skewed.

"Yes, Father," Damian said.

"I can't break my own oaths for personal reasons, no matter how compelling. I hope you understand that," the older man explained to the young boy. "That won't lessen my commitment to you." He looked up at Talia. "We should make some kind of plan so that Damian and I can get to know one another."

* * *

GOTHAM CITY

WAYNE MANOR

"ALFRED!" Dick yelled again, pulling against the chain fastening his ankle to the bed. "LET ME OUT OF HERE!"

A calm Alfred, carrying a breakfast tray, appeared in the room. "Good morning, sir. I trust you slept well." He set it down on a side table and moved over to Dick's bedside. He pulled the chain away from the young man's ankle and began working with it.

"It's about time you unlocked that thing!" Dick said with irritation. "Why on earth did you lock me down...uh...Alfred? What are you doing?"

"Lengthening the chain, sir," Alfred said calmly. "Now it is of sufficient length to allow you access to your toilet facilities and shower but still will keep you confined to your room. I," he said, looking down his nose. "Shall bring you your meals until you are fully recovered."

Wide-eyed, Dick just stared at this new, ruthless Alfred. Then suspicion began to dawn. "Bruce. Did Bruce put you up to this? It's because I wouldn't stand down when he ordered me to, isn't it?" At Alfred's silence, he repeated. "Isn't it, Alfred?"

Alfred sighed. "I must confess that Master Bruce was most adamant that you remain within the mansion because of some imminent danger that he foresaw. I judged that this would be the best and least violent way in which to carry out his wishes. Now, I have prepared an omelet for you, along with some freshly baked muffins. Please do enjoy them before they get cold." He lifted the lid off the plate and proceeded to pour coffee from the pot.

Enraged, Dick rattled his chain, trying to pull it away from the bedframe, then stopped as an idea occurred to him. "Oh, and sir, do not expect to 'crack' the lock using your lock picks. I took the liberty of removing all such paraphernalia from the room while you were unconscious."

Grudgingly, Dick slowly climbed out of bed, hobbled to the table and sat down. As he sipped his coffee, he glared at Alfred. "I honestly think that you're enjoying this, Alfred," he grumbled.

"I must admit that, for once, after having patched you up with great care, you are prevented from wasting my efforts by your rush to go out to reinjure yourself," Alfred admitted. "Bon appetit. Ring the bell if you need anything," he said and left the room.

* * *

GOTHAM SATRAPY

From a neighboring room, Ra's al Ghul listened to the conversation between Talia and Bruce Wayne with interest through their listening devices. Sharing the room with him were Ubu, White Ghost and Shrike.

"He won't accept the offer," White Ghost said, arms folded. "Shall we narrow his responsibilities?"

Eyes narrowed, al Ghul replied, "Yes, I think so. A man who has lost family will cherish that which remains all the more." He turned to Shrike. "You have your instructions. Do you understand?"

Shrike, face sullen, nodded. "Yes, Master. Do the job quickly and leave." He paused, then added, "I still wish that you would allow me an honorable duel with the traitor! He killed my sensei and destroyed the entire dojo. He has not yet been adequately punished for that."

"His death serves my purposes," al Ghul said. "And besides, he has defeated you twice. Now that he is no longer needed to keep the Detective cooperative, he can be removed. Go!"

After Shrike left, White Ghost nodded towards the doorway. "Are you certain that this will improve matters? While the adopted son remains alive, the Detective can be manipulated easily."

Al Ghul shrugged. "He has another son, a true son, of his own blood. Surely that tie is the deeper one, especially when not disrupted by a pretender to the throne, however praiseworthy. Besides, I do not wish to leave another heir with a prior claim to Batman's legacy in Damian's path. And Shrike is correct, justice has been long delayed in the matter of Freddy Loyd."


	7. Assassin

CHAPTER 7

7 p.m.

By dinner time, Dick had given up arguing, cajoling, explaining and pleading with the butler. Alfred had been given his orders and was pleased to carry them out. Glumly, Dick ate the steak Dianne that Alfred had lovingly prepared and sipped at the fine wine that had been decanted. He had to admit that Alfred must be feeling guilty or he wouldn't have been feeding him so well. When Alfred was mad, you knew it because Hamburger Helper might make an appearance on the menu and the salad had bottled dressing.

When Alfred arrived to take the dinner dishes, Dick was subdued and contrite. "Alfie, please can I have access to the Crays if I promise not to suit up and kick ass?" he asked.

"You will keep your leg elevated and take your pain medicine when needed?" the butler queried, stacking the dishes.

"I'll do exactly what you ask," Dick replied glumly. "I slept all day and I can't stand watching television any more."

"Very well," said Alfred. "I shall unblock the computers and you may continue with your work." He lifted the tray and prepared to leave the room.

"What about this?" Dick lifted his good leg, making the chain rattle. A twinkle appeared in Alfred's eye. "A shame I never tried this sooner….ah, we shall see…" And he left the room.

Grateful for the meager win he'd managed, Dick shrugged and sat down at the computer table and began to work. It soon became clear to him that Bruce had nothing compiled on Asim; the man must be new to the hierarchy. A recent promotion maybe? Or imported from another continent?

Dick had been pondering all day just what it was that Bruce could be working on for al Ghul. Whatever it was, it had to be dangerous since Bruce was so adamant that Dick stay out of it. Damn! If only Bruce weren't so compulsively secretive. Dick couldn't count the number of cases Bruce had taken him off over the years. And for many of them, Dick had simply ignored the orders and saved Batman's ass for him!

From the start of this fiasco, Dick had known in his gut that Bruce needed help. This was the Demon after all. Ask yourself what the Demon could want from Bruce? Money? Power? Al Ghul had both already. A husband for Talia? Less obtainable but possible without Bruce. But that peculiar combination of brilliance, effectiveness and charisma that was Batman? Al Ghul had been lusting after Bruce's sheer competence for years. Batman's soul, and nothing else would satisfy. Al Ghul had been trying to lure Bruce into the fold for years, attempting to get his hooks in, using Talia, or Bruce's own best intentions. Dick frowned, more deeply. Bruce could hardly be ignorant of al Ghul's blatant longing to subsume Batman in to his organization. But, Bruce being Bruce, he wouldn't be able to resist the challenge and his own damned curiosity.

Dick sighed. The search for Asim was fruitless; there simply wasn't any computer record on the man. Too bad Babs was away in New York getting her masters in Library Science; he could use her help with this. What else?

While he was glaring at the computer screen, he heard a soft noise behind him. He swung around and found himself face to face with a lithe form in black, masked in black except for the eyes. The figure held a long, wavy knife in his hand and Dick had the distinct impression that the assassin was smiling.

* * *

GOTHAM SATRAPY

7 p.m.

Having spent the day with his new son, Bruce excused himself early for bed. He needed to think about the ramifications of the situation without distraction. And he had to admit that Talia was distracting. And Damian? The boy, for all his scowling, was endearing and frighteningly intelligent. He suspected some genetic tinkering had gone into the boy's genome, but absent a DNA test denying the boy's ancestry, he was prepared to accept him as his child.

Three men. The boy wasn't six years old and he'd already killed so many. But he was young yet, maybe his bloody-mindedness could be trained out of him; generosity, tolerance and patience instilled somehow? Damian was the person Bruce himself would have become, absent Alfred's benign presence and the sheer optimism Dick had radiated all those years. He would need both men's help if he took Damian on.

The gist of al Ghul and Talia's conversations bothered him. Neither of them considered Dick a person of consequence to Bruce, even though he'd adopted him as a boy of thirteen. They spoke as though Dick would somehow be….absent…during Damian's future upbringing.

But why cure Dick only to…remove…him later? He'd suspected for some time that Ra's was up to something but the enormity of it was staggering. Remove Alfred and Dick, replace Dick Grayson in Bruce's affections with a more acceptable son and heir, Ra's' own grandson. Talia to be his consort. The Wayne billions under the control of the League and Batman under the control of Ra's himself. No wonder Ra's had been so anxious to supply a cure, and had monitored the result such that when the cure failed, Ra's magically appeared and provided a better drug. Dick was the bait and once Bruce was hooked, was no longer needed. He could be discarded….

Bruce's eyes widened. He should have shipped the boy off-planet forcibly; nowhere on Earth was out of the Demon's reach. Simply penning the boy in the manor would keep him safe only if he wasn't a target of the Demon. He reached under the bed for the case with his Batman uniform. Maybe it wasn't too late.

* * *

WAYNE MANOR

"Hello," Dick said calmly and stood with his back to the computer. With his left hand he reached under the desk frantically for the panic button Bruce had installed when Dick first came to live at the manor. But if this intruder had gotten past the multiple layers of security surrounding the manor, there was a good chance the panic alarm had already been disabled. "Care to tell me why you're here?"

"Justice," said the assassin and pulled off his mask. The face was a familiar one, last seen in defeat.

"Boone," Dick acknowledged him, meeting Boone's gaze with a serene look. "Come to try beating me again. You know that never works." Leaving his weight on his good leg, he tucked the broken one behind him, mentally taking an inventory of the room for potential weapons. He was still chained down; that would limit movement. Still, the chain could be used as a trip wire or a weapon if he could get enough slack in it…

Boone's smile grew to a grin as he took in the chain cuffing Dick's good leg. "I heard that Asim broke your leg for you, but it looks like you pissed of somebody else now, didn't you? Chained up like a dog, huh?" He began to move toward his old nemesis. "I've learned a few things since you broke up my vengeance academy." Boone lunged and thrust the heel of his hand swiftly toward Dick's chin.

Dick veered to one side, pushing himself against the table. "Oh?" he replied, the breath coming fast. "And what's that?"

Boone studied his face for a moment with a look almost of pity. "Asim. He broke your leg, deliberately I hear. Well, you know who Asim really is, don't you?" Seeing the puzzlement on Dick's face, Boone's expression took on a look of glee. "You don't, do you?" He laughed and lunged again, driving Dick in the opposite direction.

"As a child, you probably pulled the wings off flies," Dick commented, looking for an escape route with his peripheral vision. "If you have a point, make it."

"You always were impatient, Freddy. Or should I say…Dick," Boone said with a smug grin. "Asim is new to the organization; nobody knows him because he's really Batman. Your mentor, isn't he? He's joined the League of Assassins and apparently Talia had his child five years ago. You," Boone added. "have been replaced."

Dick started and caught himself in time to dodge, just before Boone lunged with the knife. "No. That's not true," he gasped as he moved out of reach. He tried to edge closer to the bed, put some slack into the chain. He grabbed the computer monitor and threw it at Boone.

"Believe it or not," Boone said triumphantly, dodging the flying monitor. "Batman deliberately broke your leg with his own hands. He doesn't have time for an _adopted_ son; he's got the real thing now. You must be a real disappointment to him."

'Batman doesn't have any kids," Dick threw several punches in succession, driving Boone back until he could feel the chain pull taut. "I'd know."

"He doesn't tell you everything, does he?" Boone slashed with the knife, catching Dick across the left forearm. As Boone closed in for the kill, Dick vainly kicked at him but the one leg was chained and the other in a cast. He could feel it crunch as it connected with Boone's gut. Boone grabbed at his abdomen, but his grin never faded. "You lose, Freddy." Slash. "You've lost your home!" Another slash, across the chest. "You've lost your father!" Another slash, drawing more blood. "You've been replaced by the _real_ son!" Slash, hit the right wrist. Dick's blows were getting less effective; he was bleeding from half a dozen places, but the words hurt worse than any knife wound. "You've lost everything you ever had and I'm the winner now." He raised the knife and drove it down with all his might.

* * *

GOTHAM SATRAPY

Batman was propelled by a sense of urgency. He made his way out of the Algol building, silently easing past the sentinels on guard. He disabled the electronics and made his way past the gates. He gave a thought for Damian, then dismissed the possibility of taking the boy with him. It was too dangerous and Damian was well cared-for where he was. He'd come back later and make arrangements with Talia for some kind of joint custody. Dick and Alfred needed him…he knew it.

He found the batmobile parked and also located the booby-trap al Ghul had left for him. Similarly, he disabled the tracker that had been installed under the hood. The engine fired up and soon he was roaring for Wayne Manor and the cave.

The cave was untenanted and looked normal until Batman eyed the security monitors. The video had been knocked out and the perimeter alarms disabled. Batman's face took on a look of concern as he tried the intercom to the butler's pantry and kitchen. There was no response, as there should have been at this hour. Leaving the security systems behind, Batman took the stair quietly up to the mansion level.

His first stop was the butler's pantry where he found a semi-conscious Alfred, tied up and gagged. "Alfred?" Batman whispered, removing the bonds and gag. "How many are there? Where are they?"

"Th…there was only one that I saw, sir," Alfred's dazed look transformed into a look of sharp terror. "Master Dick, sir. The man said that he had a score to settle with him. You must find him! Oh, what have I done?" he moaned.

"Alfred?" Batman asked in concern." What did you do?"

"I chained the boy to his bed. To keep him in the house, sir. He was proving recalcitrant…" Alfred trailed off and caught a brief grin on Batman's face before he nodded and sped off into the house.


	8. Family

CHAPTER 8

Seeing the knife plunging down, Dick rolled and kicked Boone again with his casted leg. It hurt like hell, but the cast gave his leg more mass. Boone went over with a curse and the knife flew across the bed. Dick reached for it and so did Boone, but Dick got there first and grabbed it with a bloody hand. He was relieved that it didn't slip free of his grip. He grabbed Boone and thrust the knife to the man's throat, forcing him down onto the floor.

Dick felt the sweat dripping off his face as he held the knife at Boone's carotid artery. His rage at the man's incredible lies burned inside. "I knew you hated me, Boone. But I never thought you'd stoop to lying, even to an enemy," he gritted out.

Boone stared back at him with a kind of pity. "I didn't lie to you. I told you the absolute truth. Batman has a true-blood son and he is the one who broke your leg. Deliberately."

Dick just glared back. "Liar."

"No. He's telling the truth," a familiar gravelly voice came from behind him. Dick startled and at the movement, Boone broke loose and made for the window. Batman glanced at Dick and threw a bolo at Boone. He tackled the would-be assassin and tied him neatly, before depositing him in a corner of the room. When he looked up, Dick was sitting hunched over on the bed.

"Are you hurt?" Batman asked, coming over to him.

Dick was silent for a moment. He took a breath and replied, still looking down. "Refractured the leg, I'd guess; got a few slices that Alfred will have to stitch." He glanced at Boone. "What are you going to do with him?"

Batman's gaze sharpened as he took in the assassin. "Deliver him to his master. But we have some important business first." He pulled his lock-picks out of his utility belt and quickly had Dick unchained. Hauling a protesting Boone across to the bed, he chained the assassin tightly where Dick had been, removing the extra length Alfred had provided.

"Come on," Batman said, gently supporting Dick at the waist. "Let's get you to the cave."

Once inside the batcave, he sat Dick down and began working on the knife slashes. Dick waited a moment, then burst out, "So, it is true? You were Asim? You broke my leg on purpose? Then had me dumped in Crime Alley?"

Not meeting his eyes, Bruce replied, "Yes. You wouldn't stay away from the case I was working. You wouldn't accept the off-world assignment with the rest of the team. I had no choice." He met Dick's accusing eyes. "If I hadn't, Ra's men would have killed you."

"Let me get this straight," Dick said tautly. "You broke my leg to help me?"

"To keep you at the mansion where it was safe," Bruce said."Or rather where I thought it would be safe. The identity as Asim was intended to help me resolve a murder that Ra's claimed had taken place among his men. I couldn't give myself away when they brought you in. Dick," Batman tied off another slash with gauze. "If I hadn't fulfilled my part of the bargain, they were going to kill you. Then you decided to force the League out of Gotham; they weren't going to give you any slack because you're my protégé."

There was a long silence, then, "Is it true that you have a real son?" Dick asked in a small voice.

"It would seem that I have two sons," Bruce said with a frustrated sigh. "My eldest is mule-headed and doesn't obey orders. My youngest…may be a problem and his paternity has yet to be proven…I don't think this one needs stitches either…."

"Am I…I mean, Boone said that…that this new son was related to you by blood and was my replacement….Is he?" Dick's voice was almost inaudible. "I mean…I've been a problem for you, I know…Ow!" Batman had just tightened a gauze bandage around his arm and stood back, glaring.

"You have not been replaced and no, you aren't a problem for me. Good grief, you didn't listen to that tripe he was feeding you, did you?"

"How much did you hear?" Dick demanded. "Why didn't you step in while he was trying to filet me?"

"I heard most of it and figured you were doing fine as you were," Batman's lips quirked up in a smile. "I didn't tell Alfred to chain you down, you know. I just told him to confine you to the manor." He helped Dick off the medical bed. "You need to go back to Leslie's and have that leg seen to."

"Yeah," Dick said morosely. "So, what is my status now? I mean…what am I to you? An ex-employee?"

Batman sighed. "The same as you've always been, Dick. This other 'son' of mine is five years old and has been brought up by the League of Assassins. That means he has been raised as a junior assassin. There's a lot of training to undo. I'll need your help. Dick," He stopped and met his son's gaze. "You're one of the sanest people I know. I'm going to need you as a reality check with Damian."

Dick thought for a moment. "And the leg?"

"I had to immobilize you or you'd have gotten yourself killed by Ra's' men. I didn't know until this morning that Ra's would see you as an obstacle to his plans for Damian and would actively send an assassin after you," Batman made a sour grimace. "Needless to say, I am not going along with his plans. I am not joining the League, marrying Talia or raising Damian to supplant you. You are family and you'll stay that way. Now get in the damned car," He opened the door to the batmobile and glared until Dick meekly took a seat. "Did you really think I'd just write you off? I raised you!"

Dick leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes, his lips quirking into a smile. "Bruce, sometimes it's hard to tell just what it is you're doing. You drive me crazy, okay?"

"Okay. The feeling is often mutual," Batman replied and started the car. "So, tell me how Alfred managed to chained you up…?"

The next day, Batman and Nightwing met with Ra's al Ghul at a mutually agreed on location. Ra's' eyes flicked from Batman to a considerably battered Nightwing and back as Batman hauled Boone, aka Shrike, out of the car and dumped him at Ra's feet.

"I'm returning your property to you," Batman said, his face grim. "Fortunately, _my son_ was able to fight him off, although not without injury to himself. Since I have solved your murder, I consider my part of our bargain fulfilled." Spotting Talia standing behind her father, Batman directed his next remarks to her. "Talia, I still want to have a relationship with Damian and will take custody of him if you want."

Talia glanced at her father. "No, he is still too young to leave his mother. I will bring him to you when he is older. If you were here, with me…." She looked at him sadly. "But I see that this cannot be. When Damian is a few years older, perhaps in four or five years, I will send him to you."

Batman could do nothing but nod. "As you wish." He turned back to Ra's al Ghul. "Ra's, I want this understood. Damian has no special rights simply because he shares DNA with me; whatever Damian inherits, he earns. I have another son, with his own rights. Touch him at your peril; I will be watching over him. But you should know that by now," he said coldly, then went on. "I told you what would happen if you hurt Nightwing. At this moment, your buildings are being raided by the Gotham Police Department and your personnel are in jail. Remove whatever is left of your operation today, lest I destroy it too. If I see any of your assassins in my city again, they'll be in jail ten minutes later and your property will be destroyed."

The two turned and left a silent Ra's al Ghul behind.


	9. Epilogue

Author's note: This completes the story begun in Wall of Death and finished in The Debt. If you haven't reviewed, I encourage you to do so since this is the only pay I get for the hours I put in. Besides, I love to hear from you all!

EPILOGUE

GOTHAM AIRPORT

TWO DAYS LATER

Bruce Wayne entered the private terminal and saw Talia standing alone with a young boy. Hearing his foot step, she turned to face him. "Beloved," she said.

"Talia," he looked hungrily at the young boy she held by the hand. "Do you have to take him so far away?"

She glanced down at the five year old. "I am afraid so, Beloved. Hong Kong is the lesser of my father's territories. He is allowing me to rule there without interference." She smiled up at him. "I will not allow him to forget his father."

"Damian," Bruce knelt on the terminal floor. "You will remember me, won't you?"

Damian approached and allowed himself to be hugged. "I won't forget you, Father. I'll work hard and make you proud of me." Pulling himself out of the hug, Damian ran back to his mother and took her hand again. "Mother, I believe that it is time to go now," he said stolidly.

Bruce took his feet again. "Your father doesn't have any more plans for Damian, does he?"

"Not as far as I am aware," she replied. "But then, he doesn't confide in me like he used to. Be assured that I will do my utmost to protect our son."

Bruce nodded. "Call me if you need me. And send me reports of his progress, would you?"

She smiled and allowed Damian to tug her toward the gate. At the doorway, she looked over her shoulder. "Farewell, Beloved," she said and exited through the doorway.

Bruce Wayne remained until the plane had taken off and long after it had disappeared into the sky. He sighed and returned to Alfred and the limousine.

Back at the mansion, he found a restless Dick Grayson attempting to perform a routine on the rings. When Dick fell for the third time, Bruce winced and called out, "Dick, you're going to re-fracture your leg if you keep landing like that." Then he remembered how Dick had gotten the broken leg in the first place and felt ashamed.

He had never doubted the necessity for the injury; Dick would have been killed if not immobilized. Still, this was his boy he'd hurt. He'd raised him since he was eight years old; Dick had been Robin since he was nine. Bruce sighed.

Dick hobbled over to where Bruce stood, fighting his interior battle. "It's okay, Boss," Dick said cheerfully and patted Bruce's shoulder. "I understand what you had to do and I forgive you." Dick moved over to the bench and sat down. Bruce took the spot next to him.

"So, what now?" Dick asked. "I can't go back to being Robin; I understand that now. The war's over and I've finished programming the Watchtower's computers."

"Dick, you can always stay here," Bruce said earnestly. "Just because you aren't being Robin doesn't mean you've lost your home or your family."

Dick gave his father a long look, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, Bruce, but it wouldn't feel right. I need to contribute, to earn my place. Yes, I know," he waved down Bruce's protests. "I know that you're happy to share whatever you have with me, but I this bird needs to start scratching for his own worms. For starters, I think I'll go to Mount Justice. The team is still active, right?"

Bruce's lips quirked. "Yes, once they get back from their mission off-planet. They'll still need a leader and you've proven competent."

"You aren't going to dog my steps like an overanxious helicopter parent, are you?" Dick asked with a sly smile.

"It won't be easy, but yes, I'll let you and the team get yourselves out of danger without interfering...unless you really need a rescue," Bruce said firmly.

"Okay, okay, if we really need to pulled out of some deep kimchee, you are welcome to interfere. Otherwise, we're on our own," Dick reached out a hand and Bruce shook it.

"So, when are they getting back?" Dick asked pensively.

"I think they have about two weeks left," Bruce replied. "I sent them to a planetary system on the edge of the galaxy. I...ah...wanted to get you as far as possible out of harm's way."

Dick's grinned. "Okay, I guess I consider myself on vacation for a couple more weeks. And now can you tell me just what it was that I was up to during the T'Shal war? I still don't remember a thing."

"Be glad to," Bruce answered and the two made their way upstairs.


End file.
